


A Raven in Flight

by Ramzes



Series: Dragon Kings Without Beasts [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-04 06:44:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4128634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramzes/pseuds/Ramzes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of moments in the life in Brynden Rivers, master of whisperers, kinslayer, Hand of the King and a man who chose his own path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Reign

Brynden was already raising his hand to knock at his lady mother's door when he changed his mind. Lady Melissa rarely raised her voice and was never scathing but he had learned to read her moods since a young age. Right now, she sounded tired and discouraged and he hated seeing her like this, so he was not eager to enter.

"Have some more patience, I'm begging you," she was saying.

"I've been nothing but patient for those three years, Melissa," a man's voice replied – one that Brynden recognized. "But I'm starting to think we'll never wed."

Brynden's mother sighed. "It's hard for me as well. But I don't dare, Jonor. You don't know him but I do. He'll never let it go. I'll pay dearly."

The man paused. And then, "Do you really believe it? He threw you out with the children and he's had how many women since then? Ten? Or ten times ten? He's probably forgotten your name by now. You worry too much."

"You don't understand and I cannot explain it so that you do."

But Brynden understood, more than the man did. While his mother was careful never to speak ill of the king, he could say that she both despised and feared him. It was like Mya's playthings – she might not want them anymore but if Gwenys took them without permission, she'd fly into a rage.

"He won't live forever," Melissa said.

"That's what we've been telling ourselves for years. Sometimes, I think he will…"

But he didn't. Later that afternoon, Brynden watched the raven flying to the castle and wondered what news it would bring. Then, he stopped thinking about it and kept exploring the godswood. It was far more interesting anyway.

Mya found him some time later and when he heard her call his name out, he realized that he had spent hours here already. He was always surprised when he realized that time had flown around him _again_. Such was the fascination the godswood held for him.

Not for his sisters, though. Mya threw her long brown braid over one shoulder and looked at the sky anxiously. "I don't understand why you like to keep company with him," she said, staying well away from the great weirwood tree that Brynden was leaning against.

_No,_ he thought, _you don't_. Although all in their House kept the old religion, few were those who felt so much at ease in the proximity of the old gods. Brynden liked hearing their voices, although he never spoke about it after he was old enough to realize that no one else did. To him, they were soothing company, helping him think better, accepting him as he was, red eyes and all.

"I like it here," he said simply.

She scowled. "Don't I know that!"

To his surprise, then she sat down next to him and leaned her back against the trunk, right under the carved face. He didn't say anything.

"There was a raven from King's Landing," she finally said. "The King is dead."

"May the gods judge him for good and bad," Brynden replied without thinking, as he had heard his grandfather say many times at someone's passing. Then, he peeked at Mya's face curiously but the fading light did not reveal much. Still, it did occur to him that she looked like someone in need of comfort. Was she looking for it from the weirwood tree, like he did? "Mya, you don't mourn him, do you? I mean, he sent us away without a second thought and we didn't even see him anymore, save for that one time…" He had not been impressed then. "He wasn't very good to us."

He expected a whack on the head but instead, his sister sighed. "I know," she said. "But he used to be, once."

And then, dusk fell, ravens flew all over their heads, she jumped to her feet with a shrill cry, and everything was just as it had been the day before.

In Raventree Hall, they were greeted by a furious quarrel. Their mother, never the one to lose her calm, was shouting right back at their grandfather; pressing her face at the door of the solar, Gwenys moved a little right, so they could take places on both sides of her.

"You've always been too kind for your own good but that's no kindness, it's sheer foolishness!" Lord Blackwood roared. "You cannot rely on that income for the children. The King will rescind it the day he's crowned, why can't you see! He'll be mad not to. Why should he honour the late King's wishes? What good has he seen of him?"

"He won't," their mother yelled back. "He's a good man and honest. He knows who is to blame and who isn't. And children cannot bear the blame for their parents' sins. Not in his eyes."

Their grandfather huffed in despair. "You only want to see the good in people, Melissa. But it's going too far. You still hope that once the new king reaches King's Landing, he'll send men here and say, "I haven't forgotten about you and your children, my lady, would you please come to court where you'll be treated most honourably."

"Why not?" she shot back.

"Because this isn't how the world works! You're only in for more heartache when you realize that your cherished friends, the new King and the Dornishwoman, has forgotten all about you."

"I am not having this conversation with you," Melissa snapped and her footsteps came to the door. The three children run for the nearest hallway, terrified that they'd be caught. In fact, they didn't stop running until they found themselves in the safety of the dark garden.

"Are you going to snivel now?" Mya finally asked and looked at her sister, disgusted. "What does it change? We've always known that we have no real prospects. You and I, we'll be lucky if we could snatch two knights to wed us. As to Brynden, he'll probably have to learn some craft to make his living. Court was never our place."

Gwenys sniffled and then smiled. "It will be," she said. "You'll see."

She was the same as their mother, kind to a fault and trusting beyond fault. Brynden and Mya looked at each other, exasperated.

And yet, two moons later, when a man arrived at Raven Hall with word from the new king, Gwenys looked at her siblings who did their best not to look at her and mouthed, "I told you so."

 


	2. Meeting Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for commenting!

At some point in their journey, Mya and Brynden decided that they would rather go back but of course, it was too late for that, even if they could turn a king's invitation down. They had already covered half the distance; if they were to turn back, they'd still have to travel all the grueling roads through mud and rivers, sweat and smell of horses. And they couldn't really turn the royal summons down. Still, as they tried to make the journey less monotonous by riding, instead of traveling in the wheelhouse with their mother, they liked to imagine that they could.

Heat pressed them like a physical being as they stared right ahead in the shimmering haze that lulled them to sleep, their horses exhausted just like them. Behind them, Melissa had already fainted by the swelter and the water in the water-skins was not cold enough to bring her back to conscience; Gwenys changed seats between horseback and the wheelhouse, unable to feel refreshed for long anywhere. And those black fields around them, that grass scorched white and wilted by the heat. They felt as if they traveled through a sea of summer in its least benevolent mood.

Finally, they arrived at King's Landing, only to be stopped at the gates. The city watch wanted to know who traveled in the wheelhouse and why they were here. Then, they insisted on searching the wheelhouse and their train of baggage and Brynden made an angry step forward but his mother gave him a stern look to warn him away.

"We're here on His Grace's orders," she said. "He invited us to attend his court."

"That's what everyone says," the guard replied. "Would you mind showing me the order?"

By Melissa's blush, Brynden knew that she had misplaced the order. Chaos constantly attended on her and the children knew better than get impatient because of it. The summons was probably lying somewhere in Raventree Hall, so they waited for the men to search the wheelhouse and finish their questioning. They came and go, went to their commanders and back, prolonged the procedure to no end. At the end, even Melissa lost it.

"Are you doing all of this just to harass me?" she asked angrily but no one answered.

Finally, they were allowed to pass and Gwenys finally asked the question that all three of them had wondered about since they had first approached. "Are the pigsties nearby?"

"No," their mother said wearily and a little bitingly. "King's Landing is a giant pigsty."

At first, they didn't understand but as they rode on, the truth in her words became evident. Mya slowly shook her head. "It didn't smell like this when we first lived here," she declared and looked around helplessly. "Did it?"

But when they started climbing Aegon's Hill, the stench began to fade. The road became less crowded and the people they passed by didn't look interested at who else had come to pay obeisance to the new king. No more than a few heads turned towards Brynden and the boy had the distinct impression that it was not because they were not curious about someone white-haired and blood-eyed – it was just because no one was interested in anyone else but themselves.

"Not again," Mya groaned when she saw the crowd barring the way to the gates. Brynden closed his eyes, hoping that when he opened them, the people would have dispersed.

Instead, he heard someone gasp and opened his eyes to be greeted by a skull, even one on a cloak. His eyes moved to the man wearing it and saw that he was examining their own banners.

"Lady Melissa?" he asked, bowing to Brynden's mother very courteously.

She smiled politely. "I don't believe that we have met, Ser, but I'm honoured to make your acquaintance."

He bowed over her hand. "Would you please let me hasten your entrance?" he asked and added by the way of explanation, "My name is Michael Manwoody. I serve Her Grace and I know that both she and the King are expecting you with great anticipation."

Mya rolled her eyes. "Yes, sure," she said and Gwenys sighed, exasperated. "Do you really have to be so pessimistic? Always?" she asked.

Brynden stopped listening to the quarrel behind him and instead took his time looking at the gates and the towers behind them. True to his word, Manwoody ushered them through the gates, much to the indignation of the other people who waited.

"Is he Dornish?" Mya murmured as they rode through the next pair of gates. "He speaks like one."

The same thought had gone through Brynden's head. In all honesty, he was a little surprised at how _human_ the man looked. He had expected an Other made of sand, at least…

"From now on, we'll go on foot," Michael Manwoody announced and threw his reins in the hand of a tall squire – a fellow Dornishman if Brynden was not mistaken. "Don't be long," the knight ordered. "Your father will want to see you."

The squire inclined his head and went about his work as they followed an old man who had arisen from the very flagstones into the red building and the chambers that had been prepared for them. Melissa walked briskly and without hesitation while Mya and Gwenys were trying to remember the places they knew from the time they had lived here. Brynden was quite sure that at least half of their recollections were fanciful tales but he knew better than saying so.

Finally, they were shown into the rooms waiting for them. Brynden wasn't particularly impressed. The furniture was serviceable enough but not what one would expect of a King and his Queen. Then again, he was old enough to reason out that those weren't the royal chambers.

"Were you expecting a throne?" Melissa snapped when the girls made the mistake of voicing their disappointments "It's comfortable enough, it's in the good part of the palace and we won't have to share bed with strangers like many of those waiting in front of the Red Keep will."

Brynden looked around and found something that was really great about the chambers: the white marble on the floor. It was so cool that without thinking twice, he kicked an edge of the carpet away and lay down, pressing his cheek against the coldness. He heard his mother's laughter and that was the last thing he heard. Sleep found him all of a sudden.

When Melissa shook him awake, it turned out that he had slept only an hour but he felt like he had caught up on thousand nights of insomnia. His mother told him to wash immediately as they were to be received by the king right now. At this, Brynden hurried to the basin without thinking twice. If he let Gwenys get there first, she'd leave the rest of them with no water at all.

And then, another long journey through courts and halls, up stairs and through gates. Brynden was just starting to think that the city gates were closer to their rooms than the King's chambers when he was blinded by a flash of white. He immediately recognized one of the famous Kingsguard. A door was opened and a minute later, his mother was sinking into a deep curtsey.

Brynden's first feeling as he rose from his bow was disappointment. King Daeron wasn't tall and impressive. He did not even wear a crown. He was not even trying to look the part. He didn't look like a man who had spent a day in a battlefield, not like Brynden's grandfather and some of his vassals did. But when Daeron smiled and beckoned him close, there was something in his eyes that made the boy swallow and reconsider. Those purple eyes were just as unusual as Brynden's own – and they looked at him like they would have looked upon anyone else, something that rarely happened with people who saw him for the first time.

"Well, child," Daeron said. "Do I pass the examination?"

Brynden felt himself blush and at the same time, amazement descended upon him. No one knew about his habit to take the measure of everyone he encountered. No one. Not his mother. Not his grandfather. Yet this king who had never seen him before…

Now, Daeron laughed. "Don't look so terrified, Brynden. Look, you don't need to answer. I was not trying to intrude on your thoughts. Come here and let me have a look at you."

The last bit was addressed at all three of them. Brynden and Gwenys obeyed immediately, but Mya stayed where she was, looking from the king to the woman sitting next to him and back.

"I remember you," she announced. "You were rocking the swing in that huge tree as I was sitting on it… You were telling me about Balerion and oranges of blood…"

Brynden wasn't quite sure who had done what but the woman smiled. "Blood oranges," she corrected. "And the desert. Yes, that's right. You were very fond of me once but at the time, you were still very little. I am surprised you remember."

There was something odd about her voice, an accent that Brynden hadn't heard before. She sounded a little like Ser Michael Manwoody. A Dornishwoman? The Queen? She did not wear a crown either.

"She was quite smart even then," the King said and Brynden rolled his eyes and looked away… straight at the young squire who had taken Ser Michael's reigns. Now, he wore a tunic with the three-headed dragon on his chest. Brynden had heard enough about the new royal family to recognize him immediately now. Unlike the grizzled veterans among his grandfather's vassals, though, he decided that Prince Baelor was no disappointment, even if he didn't look particularly regal or indeed, dragonlike.

"Father," the older boy said. "I was wondering if I could take Brynden for a moment."

Daeron looked at Brynden and the boy immediately nodded and even headed for the door, lest the King or Baelor changed their mind. Baelor whistled softly as he caught up with him.

"This eager to get away from your sisters?" he asked when they were out.

As humiliating as it was to be saved by the Crown Prince mere moments after being presented to the King, Brynden felt that he owed him. "Try to spend weeks of traveling together with your sisters," he said by the way of explanation. "Try it, and then we'll talk."

Baelor raised an eyebrow. "I have no sisters," he offered. "But I have _three_ brothers. It's a constant war here."

Brynden could offer neither argument nor agreement so he stayed silent.

"Anyway, what am I going to do with you now? I'm afraid I didn't think beyond having you out of there but Ser Michael is expecting me… before," he finished quietly seeing the knight crossing the yard below the gallery they were in.

"I'll find my way back to our chambers," Brynden suggested.

The Prince shook his head. "Impossible. I am responsible for you. Let me think…"

Brynden did.

"What do you want to do?" Baelor asked. "Train in the practice yard? Have a look at the royal library? Get some sleep?"

Brynden's eyes went eager. "The library," he said immediately.

Baelor looked relieved. "Very well," he said. "You don't want to be around Maekar right now anyway. He's still in trouble with Father and his mood is as foul as the winds at Dragonstone… Come on," he said, taking the uneven steps that suddenly appeared under their feet so fast that Brynden had to run to catch up. Ouch! And he should be careful not to trip in the process. "We'll probably find Aerys there but he won't be bothering you at all."

_Oh I think he will,_ Brynden thought without knowing why. But it didn't sound like a thought of his. More like something that the heart-tree had whispered to him. Which was stupid. He knew that there weren't any heart-trees at King's Landing.

Here. Finally, they had reached the library. By now, Ser Michael Manwoody must have lost hope that his squire would turn up at all. The double doors were pushed wide open before them and at stepping there, in the vast expanse lined with books, Brynden immediately felt at home.

 


End file.
